Unexpected: Day 18

Word Count: 123,062

Summary of Events:

Upon waking up — and remembering that Hilton was captive with her — Meinwen told Hilton what she'd learned from the news outlets about the manhunt in St. Lucia at Hilton's request. Following breakfast, Hilton had Meinwen get his mobile out from where he'd hidden it under the guise of a foot massage before texting a taunting message to Dr. Stiles' brother's bodyguard company. After lunch, they were taken to the woman's office, where Hilton rather brashly antagonised the woman and told her he and Meinwen would rather die than be released, which filled Meinwen with fear that prompted her to feel upset at Hilton as they were returned to the cell . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

They were shoved into the room roughly with the door slammed and locked behind them as loudly as ever.

Meinwen looked at Hilton, whose gaze she found looking on her with a detachedness. A drop of blood from his fresh cut hung off the edge of his jaw, and she saw a couple drops had fallen onto his shirt, where they looked sort of a deep plum colour on the light blue material.

“Just what was the reason for aggravating her and giving her the idea to kill us?” Meinwen demanded.

Hilton’s face hardened. He looked defensive. “I have enough women to hate me. I don’t need you joining their ranks.”

Meinwen startled. His words were bitter, and she could hear the hurt in them, as well as see it in his eyes. Had he merely been able to put on the most impressive of façades at the woman’s tirade?

“Hilton, I’m sorry,” Meinwen apologised. “I just don’t want to die. I’m frightened. I, I’ve never been so frightened of a person as I am of that woman. She shot and killed a man in cold blood because of a simple mistake. She wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to us.”

“But yet you had the courage to destroy your mobile instead of letting it remain in her hands and be weaponised against you, after she did that,” Hilton said, the defensiveness softening as confusion made an appearance.

“I was terrified,” Meinwen replied. “I was terrified to let my mobile fall into her hands, and I was terrified that I was going to be shot afterwards.”

“I don’t entirely believe you,” Hilton whispered. “Nevertheless, I can’t really tell you why I did what I did. Maybe some of it was fighting Irish instinct. My father’s indomitable blood. But I hope it has the… the… inversely psychological effect of inducing her to preserve our lives despite her desire to end them, because to end them would be to give us what we want.”

“I certainly hope it does,” Meinwen replied, sniffling and swiping at some tears that seemed to lack the will to roll off the edge of her eyelid and down her cheek. “I don’t want her to decide she’d rather have us dead than make us her scapegoats.”

She heard Hilton’s shoes on the floor and was mildly surprised when she felt his arms wrap around her, one hand settling low between her shoulders, the other cradling the base of her skull and pressing her head to rest against his collarbone in a tender embrace.

Even if he had looked like a weakling in contrast to the man who’d been holding him earlier, showing he wouldn’t have the physical strength to fight them out, Meinwen was grateful for the mental strength of will and intelligence that Hilton seemed to have, as it gave her hope that despite their physical weakness, they might be able to escape by means of cunning, and hope of escape was all Meinwen could cling to.